Illuminating A Cloud
by Seraphim210
Summary: Sensory detailed accounts of dreams that Cloud has-whilst suffering from GeoStigma. Emotional Turmoil, yup. Sephiroth. His loved ones, taken away.


_Another straightforward emotional storyyy, yup. Made it for the monthly contests my FFVII-RP group has. All of my stories are posted on dA, I'm only now just uploading them. Let me know what you think!_

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Rated: PG  
Disclaimer: Don't own FFVII at all. This is for the FFVII RP groups contest.  
Pairing: N/A  
Theme: Nightmares (December Contest)

Unlike most dreams, this one had a concrete story. A memorable one.

Cloud Strife was sitting at his work desk in Seventh Heaven rather idly…it was a late night, and all he could really do was think about the dream that he had seen the last time he slept. It was about blood. Glittering crimson, streaked left and right—on the dark gritty concrete right before the bar. Oh how the moon reflected so magnanimously against it!

So…what did all that mean? The blonde wasn't quite too sure…he sighed lightly, as he leaned forward, folding both of his forearms across his desk—a pen still in hand. He was organizing deliveries…or at least trying to. Money calculations, affording shipments for the bar…it was all so stressful. It was natural for Cloud to have nightmares; but one with just blood raining; coating the street in front of his home was flat out strange. Currently, the room was bathed in a dim light. It coated the room unevenly, but what could one possibly expect from a low light? Yawning wearily in the side of his forearm, Cloud gently and subconsciously nestled his cheek into the crevice that both of his folded arms created. Sleep was soon upon him.

With several thoughts wading in the waters of the back of the blonde's mind, Cloud shuddered in his sleep faintly…It was….cold. _Drip, drop…_

Drip…  
Drop.

A valiant remnant; red was for remembrance…Blood trailed from the window sill, dripped from him. _Him._ And onto the concrete! Zack! Zack was…broken. Sitting beside /that/ window sill! The spiky haired blonde had a innate urge to just HELP him! Every pore, square inch of his body willed him to move…to save him. For some reason—he found that he couldn't. He was stuck, physically, literally…the only thing that was able to move were his eyes. Flicking them downwards towards his feet, he…noticed….blood on the concrete beneath his shoes. It was dark. Darker than black; a glue. A psychotic, ethereal glue. It paralyzed him, seeped through his worldly clothing and breathed into his body! He couldn't move! Stricken by terror…Cloud felt paralysis further restrain him.

"Can't move? That's too bad. To your left there lies a flower girl. To your right there lies a bar maid." Almost out of thin air, the voice came out of nowhere. The feel of a figure behind him came out of nowhere. The breath against his neck and nape were not only ghostly; but…

_**frightening.**_

It was Sephiroth. His voice as crisp as the Masamune itself. Feeling his own breath hitch, his heart burst…Cloud couldn't even do so much as physically quiver. It was like the force of gravity itself decided to hold him captive. A tear was already…cradled along the blonde's eyeline. Placid in demeanor, Sephiroth continued his little monologue…"…And behind you.." The silverette gripped Cloud's unexposed arm…"Is your past." Sephiroth. "You cannot escape me. Even in your dreams."

Cloud flicked his eyes to the left, with a destroyed and devastated will. All he could make out was glimmering blood…a pale hand. Silver bangles reflecting promisingly against the moonlight. It was so, so … dark. Clenching his eyes shut, muted with horrification, Cloud hesitantly maneuvered his eyes to the right. A paintbrush. Slick black hair, painting a picture with iron flavored acrylic.  
The touch of Sephiroth's hand, over his frozen yet very alive muscle...felt as horrible and painful as knives severing apart nails from fingers. The silverette delved his nose into the back of the blonde's spikes, taking in a sacred whiff of the refreshing yet feathery hair. Seriously he spoke, strangely he lingered, "Did you want to wake up?"

"A-hhah!" Cloud jolted awake, jittery and torn. Immediately flexing his muscles and grunting with that very soft and pristine Nibelheim accent, the blonde felt a familiar, restrained tear roll down his cheek. It was as if he were strangled, but finally let go of—allowed to breathe once more.

A dream. A dream. A dream.

"Wh..fh.." Cloud couldn't understand.

It was beyond vivid, the lush colors, dark setting, and heavenly lighting.  
Glancing at his once touched hand, the blonde noticed a blackened hand print. Sephiroth. Sephiroth. Sephiroth. Feeling pain overcome him rather spontaneously, he cringed—gripping his own arm reflexively. What was…this…black dripped along his desk, across his thigh—onto the floor…Geostigma….  
With eyes locked onto the smoldering skin, Cloud felt like…someone was pouring acid over his arm, hot, vile…. acid.

_Your worst fear, Cloud._

Sephiroth's whisper. Cloud grimaced, brought his hand over his ear…He didn't want to listen. "Aghhhhhh…." The blonde shuddered, the bulk of his vocals filing out as his bad arm continued malfunctioning. He re-gripped it…and soon…_everything_ went _**black.**_

"Hellooooo, hell-oooooo?" Aerith waved at Cloud, seeing no response, she approached him…Shaking his arm gently, she smiled as she admired him while he slept. "Cloud?"

Cloud stirred, rolled his eyes slowly to a wake…"Huuh?" his out of focus vision soon pulled focus—became sharper. Several shades of color soon took form, from swirling browns to dazzling greens. Aerith…and they were…in the church.

"You see. Everything's…going to be alright. I promise…it won't hurt anymore. We're all here for you…" She smiled her sparkling smile, and squeezed his pert, damaged bicep gently.

"But I...what's going on?" Cloud sat up, feeling his tense muscle relax so gingerly against her skin. He propped his other arm over his knee, and hunched forward a bit as he took in Aerith's very delicate face and form. Oh the way her gorgeous, spiraling locks unfolded! Those shining tresses…were laid over her bosom so casually, so lovingly.

"You're dreaming." She stated, her voice like a promise. "I don't quite understand it all myself, but…I know you'll find your drive soon. Don't give up. Life isn't a just a procedure, a formula; it's…something much better than that. Live it to the fullest, and live it happily. …Live for us." Aerith smiled as she tilted her head. Speaking with a honeyed seriousness now, her lips parted as quickly as the flapping of a butterfly's wings. "Never lose sight of your dreams, Cloud. Never."

Cloud awoke once more…but instead of darkness, there was light. Filing into his study from a nearby window…slowly catching on, the blonde glanced downwards to see remnants of black splotches coating the ground. But his arm…was cleansed. Refreshed.

_Chase after your dreams._

Aerith's whisper.

Cloud thought to himself sincerely after that, the presence of the woman always softened his demeanor. So...instead of living life mechanically, he was supposed to..."Cloud?" The door creaked as it was opened, it was...Tifa. With a smiling face, she tilted her head-glancing at him curiously. "C'mon, breakfast's ready..." she cocked her head to the side a bit, as if motioning him out. Looking up at her from where he sat rather sincerely, the blonde nodded.

"Yeah...I'll be out in a bit," he spoke softly.

"Alright, but hey..." she spoke just as soft, "is everything okay?" The dark haired beauty could tell that the blonde was a bit distracted...by something.

"Yeah, don't worry. Eveything...is alright." He hesitantly confirmed, his eyes lighting up slightly-the blonde's conviction was slowly growing by each passing second, it was...beautiful, really. Locking those mako blues onto Tifa's caramels, Cloud...felt like he was actually looking at her for the first time. Everything was...definitely alright. And it was time to live.

Happily.

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